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I Married A Sorceress by Throne "I don't see why my show has to have a special Halloween episode. Isn't the whole stupid series about magic and that crap anyway?" "Well," said Janet, the production assistant, holding her clipboard close to her chest, "that's true. But they wanted to do something special for the holiday." "Listen, Clipboard." He had given her that nickname at the beginning of the season. "I know what I'm doing. Remember that I'm still in my twenties and I've had two shows of my own already." "Yes, Sir, Mr. Markus." "First there was MY SUPER TELEVISON." "I remember." What Janet recalled was that he had been a minor recurring character, only until he became too annoying on the set and was written out of the show. "And then there was BIG BURT." "Of course." As the star of that one he had played a lovable apartment dweller who got into the business of all his neighbors, but in a helpful way. It had been cancelled midseason, after he made some scathing remarks during an interview, blaming the writers and director for low ratings. "And now I'm the headliner on this one. I MARRIED A SORCERESS wouldn't be on the air without me." She wanted to point out that he was the co-lead, sharing top billing with Carnie Curtis, who was the better actor by far. Her timing was impeccable. She provoked all the biggest laughs. Willy Marcus had gotten his part only because he knew about several executives' dirty laundry and had hinted that he might reveal that in an interview, too, if they didn't appease him. Carnie played Ursula Spellbinder, who was a sorceress. Willy Marcus had been cast as her husband Larry, who was vacantly unaware of her magical powers and how she used them to get him out of jams. "Of course, Mr. Marcus," Janet agreed reflexively. "And what's this crap in the script?" he wanted to know. "Where I suddenly turn into a woman?" "Well, Sir, that was written after we found we could acquire the services of a really fine make-up artist. A Miss Circe Kirke. She does cosmetics, wigs, body suits, and everything." "Who was stupid enough to hire her?" "I believe it was Mr. Dread." That brought Willy Marcus to a complete halt. The one person who he feared was the station president. The man was a benevolent tyrant, in full control of everything that went on. Willy had tried to get some dirt on him but the tall striking man was openly gay and his sexual preferences had been accepted by the industry and the media. He was relatively young for such a coveted position and possessed boundless energy. "All right," the actor said with grumpy resignation. "I guess I'll humor him on this one. It'll be one more favor he owes me." Janet was fascinated by how Willy rewrote reality to suit his egotistical needs. She suppressed a sigh and went back to checking her clipboard. "The script is done and you should have it by the end of today." "So, they planned this nonsense behind my back." He frequently saw mistreatments and betrayals where none existed. "Fine. What do we still have to do right now?" "Just a few reshoots." "Oh yeah. Those scenes that Carnie messed up." He shook his head. "I'm getting tired of having to carry her in every episode." "Yes, Sir." Janet knew better than to even hint that the poor deliveries that needed to be corrected were his own. They got that done. He received his script, which he immediately began to criticize, after only skimming it, as was his habit. What kind of a story angle was that, turning his character into a sexpot? And having him/her go to a party where all the guys paid unwanted attention to her/him? Then came the weekend. Monday morning, he showed up, pompous and self- important as ever. They began shooting the early scenes, in which he would still appear as his male self, prior to having his gender changed. The script centered around his character learning a lesson about what it's like to be female. In the end he would be changed back, with no memory of the alterations he had undergone, but still displaying his improved attitude. That last development would be established by how much new understanding he displayed for one of the female characters. The recording went about as well as usual, with him flubbing lines and trying unsuccessfully to steal scenes. There were a few retakes to correct his mistakes. As always, he was told that there had been a lighting problem or a camera angle had to be adjusted. The next day they were ready to shoot the bulk of the show, all the scenes in which his Larry character would become Laura. He arrived extra early so Miss Circe Kirke could do whatever she needed to make him pass convincingly as female. He was pleasantly surprised when she turned out to be young and sexy. Her dark hair was in braids, which were wound into spirals and pinned to the sides of her head. Willy was thinking how much he'd like to take them down, along with getting her out of her clothes. She gave him a welcoming smile and invited him to sit in the make-up chair. "So," he asked, "you been in this racket very long, Miss Kirke?" "Doing makeovers? Oh, yes. For a considerable time. And please call me Circe." "Sure thing, honey. I hope this won't take forever." He was also hoping that as she leaned in from the side to do detail work, her plump boobs would press against his arm. "It won't be too long. And I assure you it will be completely painless." "Well, yeah. They don't want you hurting their top star. I'm what makes this show work, you know." "Your reputation precedes you... Willy." He liked that she had invited him to use her first name and was now addressing him by his. Those were good signs. This might progress beyond just accidental contact with her shapely tits. He wondered how much he could persuade her by offering to use his influence to get her more work. He wouldn't mind starting by patting her bottom. That would be fun, and if he had some leverage over her, there would be no complaints like the ones from the script girl and that cute number from the catering service. He didn't need some kind of scandal like other guys had gotten, from bitchy females with no sense of humor, and no respect for his status. He eyed her lustfully as she laid out some cosmetics and latex prosthetics from her carrying case. Then there were several unfamiliar items, including a small brass urn, glittering crystals, and a piece of carved and polished wood that was disturbingly phallic. Circe lit incense. He figured she was one of those New Age types who thought it helped her when she worked. Fine. Normally he would have complained about the aromatic smoke, but he wanted to get on this doll's good side. Then she touched the crystals while muttering something that sounded like it was in a foreign language. Finally, she took the thing that resembled a dick and waved it over his head. While he was thinking what a load of horseshit all that was, and recalculating his odds of getting into her pants, Willy began to feel strangely drowsy. He closed his eyes, telling himself it would just be for a few minutes. Probably he had stayed up too late the night before, visiting that porn site with all the girl-on-girl action, accompanying his viewing with a few mixed drinks, heavy on the whiskey. Sure, that was it. He smiled to himself as a new confidence washed through him. His relationship with this Circe girl was really going to take him somewhere. Willy came back to full consciousness. The pretty girl was standing back, observing him, hands on her hips. He was thinking about having his hands in the same place, before moving to several others. His chest felt funny and, when he glanced down, he was surprised to see that under his make-up bib, he appeared to have a pair of huge hooters. He could even feel their weight pulling at his chest. She must have glued those fake knockers on really well. He wondered belatedly how she had gotten him out of his shirt. And his pants, he added, as he looked further. OMG. Had she shaved his legs? Or used some hair remover on them? And everywhere else he could see? Without his permission? Now he really had something to use against her when he was ready to steer her toward his bed, or at least get a quick blowjob here in his dressing room. He stood up in just his boxers and yanked off the bib, about to say something to her about his missing body hair. Those heavy boobs gave a slight bounce. His backside felt odd and, when he reached around to touch it, he found it was wide and protruding. How the hell had she attached a fake butt so seamlessly? As he took a few experimental steps it was almost as if those new curves were actually a part of him. "How the heck did you do this?" he wanted to know. Hearing himself, he also wondered why his voice was so high and wispy. He felt dizzy and put a hand to his forehead. What he felt were springy curls. His scalp was warm so he tried to pull off the wig, not caring if that might make extra work for Circe. But it tugged at his scalp as if he was yanking on his own hair. He walked unsteadily to the mirror to see if he could ascertain how it was attached. That was when he got a look at his face. Double-OMG. His cheeks were rounded and there was a hint of a double chin. He had on heavy make-up and his lips had been somehow pillowed up. He stared at his reflection for long seconds. "This is too weird," he said disbelievingly. "How long was I in that chair? Are we still on schedule?" "It didn't take much time, and they'll be ready for you on the set shortly. But I think you should check more closely before you get into your wardrobe." She gestured to a slinky red dress that was on a hanger, suspended from a hook. He also saw an unopened package of stockings on the counter and a pair of shoes beside them. "Please make sure I did a good job under your shorts." "Why would you have to do anything there?" he demanded, the softness of his voice robbing it of any authority. "Just take a peek, please," she suggested, flashing him a sly smile. Willy pulled the elastic of his boxers away from his formerly flat tummy, which was now soft and had a slight bulge to it, because of whatever foam prosthetic she had attached there. What he saw between his legs was a double shock. First there was no pubic hair. Secondly, where he was accustomed to seeing his above-average sized cock, there was only a nubbin. He plunged his hand down there to feel it. Why was it so small? And how come his balls were proportionately tiny? He stared at Circe with a dawning sense that something much more extreme than just make-up wizardry had taken place. "Who are you?" he asked nervously. "And what the f**k did you do to me?" "Language, Willy," she gently admonished. "Or now that you're in character, should I call you Larry? Better yet, how about the name Larry uses after his wife changes him? I believe the script says it's Laurie?" "Y... yes," he responded numbly. "Okay, Laurie. As to who I am, my name really is Circe. Like the woman from Greek mythology, who turned Ulysses men into swine. That was so much fun. And it ended differently than in the cleaned-up version that got handed down. What I did to you was simply to apply some magic, so that you could assume the character you're required to play. Mr. Dread, the station president, learned about me and my availability, and couldn't wait to have me... let's say... assist you. He even had that delightful teleplay written so that using my special talents could be justified." "This isn't possible." "No?" She pointed to his crotch to remind him of what he had found there. Then she held her hands under her own breasts and jogged them up and down, before pointing to his chest. In a daze, he felt his genitals through his shorts. Then he cupped his hands under his larger-than-hers bust and manipulated it. To his horror he realized that it wasn't SPFX make-up. Somehow it was HIM. He had jugs. And his cock had been reduced to a nugget. That fat ass must be real too. There was a knock on the door and Janet called in to him that they were ready on the set. He looked desperately at Circe. "They're waiting for you, Laurie," she pointed out. The young woman helped him out of his shorts and into a pair of panties. Then came the dress. He sat on a chair while she rolled the stockings up his legs. Then she put low heels on his feet and helped him stand. "Now go and do your best. You remind me of a succubus. So seductive. Tell them you want to be called by that girly name all the time, to help you keep in character. You'll find that your gait and mannerisms have been adjusted to fit the role you're playing. And you won't have any trouble walking in heels. Go out there and dazzle them, Laurie. Or as we used to say in the early theater..." She followed that with words in some tongue he couldn't understand. Circe laughed and ushered him out the door. Janet went wide-eyed and her mouth fell open. The cute production assistant marveled, "That's the best fake-up job I've ever seen." "Um... thank you." "And your voice is perfect. Just right for the part. Everybody will believe it when all the guys start flocking around you during the party scene. I mean, with that shape and those lips -- WOW." Then she remembered who she was talking to, under that make-up and body suit. "I'm sure everyone will be impressed, Mr. Marcus." "Please," he heard himself say. "Only call me Laurie. It will help me to..." What was it that serious actors did? "... to build the character. And ask everyone else not to refer to me as Mr. Marcus. Or Willy. I need to be treated completely as a lady." "Certainly... dear." All of his bluster and ego were gone. Janet no longer felt the need to be subservient around him -- or her. She strode away, leaving it up to Laurie to keep pace with her confident strides. The feminized figure hurried along, braless boobs bobbing. There was some sort of support built into the dress, but it allowed much more movement of those breasts than a bra would. Willy was aware of his big bottom, and how it changed his center of gravity. His full thighs rubbed together with every step. And he couldn't stop thinking of his shrunken male parts. When they got to the set, Janet made the announcement he had asked for. She displayed a new self-assurance. The director, who Willy had previously cowed, complimented him on his female persona and then curtly instructed him on where to stand. In the past, Willy wouldn't have accepted that attitude. Now he was meekly accommodating, eager to please the man with the authority. He even found himself offering a coy smile and fluttering his long eyelashes. What had Circe done to his mind? The shooting went surprisingly well. Willy handled his lines better than usually. His girly voice was so far from anything masculine. Between takes he tried to deepen it to its former range but found he couldn't do it. By the end of the day he was frazzled but happy with his performance. He hadn't needed to work very much to be convincingly surprised by his new appearance. His costar, Carnie Curtis, as Ursula Spellbinder, had used her familiar gesticulations to change him. That would be cut together with the previous day's takes of him as his male self. As they wrapped up, Mr. Arnold Dread appeared. He was several years older than the transformed man. The station president came to Willy and walked the actor to his dressing room, entering along with him. Circe was waiting inside. Willy sat back in the make-up chair, eager to return to being himself, however that would be accomplished. "You know," Arnold said casually, "I was thinking that it would save time and work to have you just stay in character -- totally -- for the rest of the work week. You wouldn't mind, would you... Laurie?" "I... I didn't... I don't know how..." Willy piped. He sighed, his massive bust rising and falling attractively. "I guess not." "You're really a stunner now," Arnold observed. "But I don't want anyone else to see me like this. They wouldn't understand. They might think..." "I anticipated that you might react that way. So, I've made plans to take you to my place, where you're welcome to spend the evening." He gazed at Willy meaningfully. "And do the same every night until this episode is finished. Would that solve your problem? I wouldn't want you to be embarrassed, having to go around looking like a sexbomb on display." "But... I mean..." Willy understood he didn't have any other options. "Of course. Thank you." "My pleasure." He turned his attention toward Circe. "Laurie will stay just like she is? Until you reverse what you did?" "Yes. Until I change her back. Or indefinitely, if I don't used the counteracting spell." "Exactly. I'm certainly impressed by your work, dear. I imagine this involves more effort than changing a sailor into a pig." "It does. But I still enjoy that old trick as well. It holds so many fond memories. If you ever need one of those done, I'm available." "Well, you're being paid for the entire week, we can always discuss any other jobs I might have before you go. And let me thank you again for agreeing to do this special assignment." "I would have done this one for free," she asserted. "Some men simply need to be transformed." Circe gave her subject an appraising eyeing before she left. "Now we can go," Arnold said. "I'll have my driver come here to get us." He took out his phone. "And the car has tinted windows. We can even keep the privacy barrier up between us and the front seat. Nobody else will see you." He phoned for his ride. "I'll have you all to myself," he concluded with a wolfish grin. Because Willy obviously couldn't fit into his male clothes, he had to stay in that revealing dress. It showed way too much cleavage. As he slid into the back seat the hem rode way up. He wasn't used to that womanly problem and fumbled for a minute before he understood that he had to raise his heavy bottom before he could properly tug the dress down. Arnold watched with a mix of amusement and leering lust. Willy hugged himself, trying to gain a minimum of modesty. Arnold saw what he was doing and said, "Don't cover up those gorgeous milk-bags. I've always had a kink for guys who make themselves look all tranny. The only thing better than that is if it gets done against their will. Usually the closest I can come to that is the fantasy stories that show up online. Oh, and there's one thing I like better still, but I don't want to upset you by saying what it is." He enjoyed a private laugh at whatever he was keeping secret. "I... When we get to your place..." Willy whispered. "Oh, I'll make you a drink. A nice stiff one to help you calm down. You'd like a nice stiff one, wouldn't you?" "Yes. I mean no. Not if you're suggesting..." He took a calming breath but it did no good. "A strong drink could help." "There you go. And I might be able to find something that will fit your new shape." He was practically drooling over Willy's magically created contours. "Thank you," the actor said in a small voice. "No problem. It's not as if I want to pay you back for all the grief you've caused on my show. Or as if I set this whole plan in motion so I could get you alone and do dirty things to you. Right?" "I... suppose so." Arnold put his hand on Willy's leg, at the bottom of that immodest dress. He gave a squeeze that might have been taken to be reassuring, but it had the opposite effect. Willy pressed his fleshy thighs together. That reminded him once again about his miniaturized penis and balls. Did the station president know about that? If he had orchestrated all this, had he asked Circe to include that change along with the others? Willy wriggled his hips. The panties were too tight between his legs, so he wanted to adjust them, but he was frightfully afraid of sending the wrong signal to his boss. At last they arrived at Arnold's place, which was a spacious split-level home located on a large wooded lot, away from any other residences. The driver got out and opened Willy's door. His eyes were all over the actor, who exited with one hand on the hem of his troublesome dress. He stood up, with his heavy bust unintentionally thrust out at the employee. Arnold had gotten out and joined them. "Hey, Lukas," Arnold said to the driver. "How about those melons?" Lukas eyed the partly exposed mams hungrily. He said, "I wonder if they feel as good as they look." "I'll let you know... if I find out. Naturally, I won't do anything that Miss Laurie doesn't want me to." "Naturally," echoed Lukas. "Though we might have to negotiate several points in the sort of an unwritten contract that's going to exist between us. I'm sure she'll be happy to work with me, even if it takes some intimate discussions." Arnold winked at Willy. When he offered his arm, the made-over man accepted it. Circe had given him the ability to balance in heels, but he was still adapting to his new and redistributed body mass. With their arms linked, they ascended the half dozen steps to the front door. At one point Willy had to lean against Arnold, giving the man a free feel of boob against bicep. Once they were inside, Willy reminded his host that there had been mention of something else to wear. Arnold said, "You're really in a hurry to strip. Aren't you?" "It's just that this dress fits me like a second skin." "Yes," the executive said appreciatively. "It certainly does. But I'm sure I have something that I bought for another of my special friends. Let's go to the guest bedroom on the second floor." They got to the stairs and Arnold gallantly motioned for his reluctant visitor to go first. As Willy climbed the steps, holding onto the handrail, his boss watched that expanded and reshaped bottom roll. He whistled and Willy, when he realized what the cause of it was, blushed bright pink. At the top he looked back and tried to frown disapprovingly, but with his outrageously inflated lips it wasn't possible. He thought it must have come across more like a pucker. They got to the bedroom and Arnold told him could undress in the adjoining bathroom. Willy was duly impressed by the fancy fixtures and d?cor. Arnold had him pass out the dress, reminding him that it was studio property and had to be used again for the next day's shooting. What the homeowner gave back made Willy squeal from upset. "How can I wear this?" he asked rhetorically. "It's barely anything." He wished his voice was at least slightly less girly. "It's perfectly fine. A silk robe. What more can you ask for?" "But it's so... so... lightweight. And practically see-through. Plus, it's much too short." "Would you rather I let you call for a ride? Oh, wait. You don't have any money. Or credit cards. No ID. And not any keys. All of that is in the security locker in your dressing room. Oops." Willy accepted the filmy robe and slipped his arms into the short sleeves. He tied the belt around his middle, but that still left it barely closed below and widely parted by his big chest-warmers above. He should have stayed in the dress. "Are you coming out?" Arnold wanted to know. "Or should I come in?" "I... I..." Willy sniffled. "I'm coming out." He opened the door and presented himself in all of his zaftig glory. Arnold held up one hand, index finger aimed downward, and twirled his pointer, indicating that Willy should do a slow spin. As he turned himself around, the actor tried not to think about how tautly the smooth material was stretched across each of his bulging boobs, and how its thinness allowed his nipples and the pink halos around them to show through. Arnold gave him a thumbs-up. "Now let's get you a nice strong drink," the fully dressed man suggested. "You really have yourself worked up into a tizzy, Laurie." "Yes, Sir." The barely clothed one sensed how dependent he was on the other. They went to the spacious den, where Arnold had an impressive dry bar, with glass shelves behind it, on which was lined up a collection of bottles. He gestured for Willy to occupy one of the stools, even holding his elbow while he mounted it. That big backside swelled out over the edges of the round seat. Arnold gave the excess pounds a pat, let his hand linger until Willy shuddered, and then moved behind the bar. He artfully mixed two drinks. There must have been some sort of hidden buzzer or something, because Lukas showed up with a full ice bucket. Arnold used tongs to put two cubes into each glass. He put one drink in front of Willy and brought the other around, so he could sit next to his quivering guest with it. Lukas went behind the bar to make himself a libation. Willy hated how the driver ogled him. "The thing is," Arnold said reasonably, "you need me right now, Laurie. And I want to help you. But Circe isn't going to be undoing what she did right away. So, you and I need to have an understanding. You're welcome to stay here, enjoy lovely meals, and have the full hospitality of my home. But it would be only appropriate for you to show your gratitude in some way. That is, if you don't want to try to deal with your situation on your own." "But you made this happen to me," Willy said in distress. His big boobs were almost resting on the bar. "I prefer to think of it as you pushing me into doing what I did. And now that it's done, we have to move on from there. I find the new you very attractive, Laurie. So how about this? Tonight, you share my bed with me, and I promise to behave myself. I mean, I won't be able to resist touching you. But I won't expect you to do anything in return. That's not too much to ask, is it?" Willy's head was spinning. He protested feebly, "I'm not gay." "Of course not. That's why I'm not pushing you to do anything right now. You can decide what does or doesn't happen as we go along. But I'd feel... well... disrespected, if you didn't at least let me get my hands all over that stupendous body of yours." He ran his fingers up and down Willy's spine. "Isn't that fair?" "I... guess so," the curvy male said uncertainly. He took a sip of his drink. Some liquid courage was desirable at that point. He found out that, when Arnold had referred to a strong drink, he hadn't been kidding. Artificial warmth coursed through Willy's body. The alcohol made his nipples tingle. He felt it in his swollen lips. "Then it's a deal," Arnold declared. "Signed, sealed and delivered." He rubbed the back of Willy's neck, under the tumbling curls that the transformed male now understood were his natural hair, grown long and given a different style. The actor took a longer swallow from his drink. It was halfway gone and Lukas cheerily topped it off from two bottles at once, pouring with professional aplomb. Willy took another swallow. He was tipsy. By the time his glass was empty, he was just plain drunk. Handling alcohol was something he had never been good at. He let Arnold walk him to the master bedroom. While Willy sat on the edge of the bed, he watched his captor -- for he now knew that was what the executive was - - undress and reveal a large cock. Naked, Arnold got Willy to stretch out and then laid alongside him, crotch against his wide and inviting bottom. The man in control reached around to grope for one nipple, find it, and began to roll it between thumb and forefinger. Willy moaned and squirmed his hips, rubbing back against Arnold. "Please," Willy said plaintively. "You're getting me overexcited. I don't want to feel this way. Don't want to... respond... to what you're doing." "Yet you ARE responding. Liking it. Wanting more. Isn't that true?" "I... don't know. It feels good but it shouldn't." "Just relax. Let it happen." Arnold's hands roamed here and there. He knew every erogenous zone and how to play them the way a master pianist works the keyboard. Willy writhed with pleasure and couldn't stop purring, mewling, and crying out like an alley cat. After an hour of that he was in a fevered state, wanting more but not daring to accept it, for fear it would prove he was less than the man he had always seen himself as. Arnold gradually slowed down, keeping him in an elevated state of erotic stimulation and then slowly allowing him to downshift into something less compelling. Willy was relieved when he at last was able to relax, though with a background current of erotic energy still humming along his nerves. Arnold laughed softly and then turned away, leaving his bedmate frustrated and needy. The next morning Lukas drove them back to the studio, where they recorded another day's footage. Willy's performance was better than anything he had ever committed to tape before. Arnold stayed on the set and watched him avidly. The cast and crew were still marveling over the convincing job Circe had done of making the costar resemble an overripe female. At quitting time Arnold led Willy to his car again. When they got home there was a baby doll nightie waiting to take the place of the previous evening's robe. Arnold dropped some unsubtle hints that more was expected this time than before. Willy dreaded having to do something -- unnatural -- for Mr. Dread. Even so, he felt the inevitability of it closing in on him. There was another potent drink and then a repeat session of the teasing that made his libido give off sparks. By the end of that he turned back toward Arnold in bed. The executive took his uncertain partner's face between his hands. Willy only wanted to please the man who controlled his fate so effortlessly. The actor closed his eyes and parted his lips. Arnold couldn't miss those signals. He pressed his mouth to the offered one and kissed deeply, tongue probing. Willy lost his self- control and kissed him back. It went on like that for a while. The performer couldn't deny that it affected him. How could he when he got a raging erection? But with his penis reduced to that laughable size, it couldn't do more. His frustration mounted. Was he doomed to be perpetually excited with no way to achieve ejaculation? He fell into a restless sleep, terribly unfulfilled. The next morning Arnold informed him, "I know how to get you off. But it would have to be an exchange. You do something for me and I do that for you. Think about it, Laurie, while we're shooting today." Willy did. He couldn't wipe the thought from his mind. As the hours passed, he grew more desperate to gain relief. And no price seemed too high to pay, to reach that goal. By the time Lukas had deposited them in front of Arnold's isolated home, Willy was ready to take the plunge, at the same time that he absolutely rejected the possibility. Arnold could read him like a book, and enjoyed toying with his mixed motivations. When they got into bed together, with the actor in transparent harem pajamas this time, the executive did only a bit of teasing, building Willy up to an initial peak and leaving him stranded there. "Could you...?" Willy began uncertainly. "Aren't you going to do more?" "I could. And I want to. But that won't happen until you show me some consideration. At least touch me. Get your hand down between my legs and make me feel as good as I've done for you." The actor groaned. He couldn't say no. Not after how wonderful Arnold had made him feel. And with how much he desired more of the same. So, he reached tentatively for what waited at the juncture of Arnold's thighs, found it already hard, and gave it a few experimental strokes with his soft hand. Arnold made a pleased sound and snuggled closer. Willy kept pumping the shaft, so much longer and thicker than his own reduced rod. Arnold put a hand atop the actor's head and exerted downward pressure. It wasn't insistent. He was still leaving Willy a choice. But the altered male's needs were too great. He wriggled lower until his face was level with where his hand had just been. He regained his grip on that rampant tool and gave it another half dozen strokes. Then, trembling all over with the enormity of what he was about to do, he hesitantly licked the head, kissed it, and finally got his lips around that pink knob. Willy sucked on his target and swirled his tongue around it, just the way he used to make aspiring actresses do when they came to him with their hopes and dreams, before he rejected them. This couldn't be happening. Not to him. Yet his burgeoning breasts, bubble butt, and shrunken male parts all attested to the reality of the moment. His urgent need to again inhabit his male form and regain his former penis dimensions kept him sucking, with the fingers of one hand wrapped as far as they would go around that impressive girth, while he pumped and mouthed it simultaneously. "Just like that," Arnold encouraged. "You're a natural cocksucker, Laurie." Willy hated to be called by that feminine name. But he had to do whatever was necessary to gain some relief and get himself changed back. He was no match for Circe's powers and could see no course other than sucking the rampant cock in his mouth, that would return him to his virile male form. If he stayed in this overripe body much longer, he didn't know what that might do to his maleness. So, his pillow lips remained fastened around Arnold's cock as he took in an additional inch, and then another, plus one more. When he had the naked man's balls against his chin, and his own nose buried in wiry pubic hair -- Circe had obviously eliminated his gag reflex -- he knew he had reached new depths of self-degradation. But there was still one more level to which he could descend before the night was over, and he was approaching it even as he considered how horrid it would be to arrive there. Arnold's breathing accelerated. His hips moved in short jerks. He grabbed handfuls of Willy's hair. "Yes," Arnold hissed. "Suck me off, you half-sexed bitch. Make me cum in your mouth. I'm screwing your face, you slut." It appeared that Arnold was one of those guys who got off on talking dirty to a partner who was sucking his dick. Willy could relate. He had been that person not so long ago. Now he was on the other end of the equation or, more practically, on the other end of the cock. He sucked and manipulated, even though he knew it would inevitably lead to him receiving a mouthful of thick rich spunk. He didn't want to swallow another man's semen but had to do it, had to sink to that level, if he ever wanted a chance to ease his craving and then escape this voluptuous female form in which he was imprisoned. Only Arnold could tell Circe to undo the madness that she had committed. The station president was on the verge of shooting his load. Considering the size of his balls, it promised to be a generous one. Willy closed his eyes and continued on autopilot. He had been reduced to an orgasm- producing device. A human sucking-machine. A living receptacle, which is to say, in popular parlance, a jizz jar, a cum bucket. a mobile sperm bank. Hot tears ran from his eyes as he brought Arnold ever closer to spurting. And then it happened. Willy's mouth was flooded with warm slimy scuzz. It puddled under his tongue and ran down his throat. He wanted to gag but couldn't. His system accepted the disgusting feeding and, in some way he didn't understand, wanted more. It was as if his reason for being, his one method of validating his existence, had been switched from being an arrogant and overbearing costar of a struggling TV comedy, to being a big-tit, fat-ass, suctioning tramp for the boss's demanding organ. Willy made himself gulp down the globs of goo, which felt like soft boiled egg travelling along his gullet. He was Arnold's suck slave. But he had the sense to keep using his duck lips to ease the satisfied man through the aftermath of a violent climax. The actor milked out every possible drop of salty white-sauce. Not until he had tenderly cleaned the softening member did he judge it prudent to allow it to slip from his well-used mouth. Every night was like that. In addition, Lukas was granted the same access to Willy's oral skills. The driver was nearly as well hung as Arnold. The episode was at last done, late on Friday. Then it was back to the house and two more enthusiastic blowjobs. Willy kept asking himself why he had become so involved in gobbling cocks. Arnold informed him that the show was being rewritten so that the Larry character could continue as Laurie. There had been excellent viewer feedback on the first episode with that change. It took a few improbable plot twists to make it work, but watchers were more concerned with seeing the zany variation maintained than with a closer semblance of reality. Willy was stuck in his new role and, therefore, it was decided not to have Circe restore his male physique. She wouldn't even reduce his bee-stung lips. Arnold moved him into the split-level house on a more permanent basis. He still withheld whatever it was he could do to make Willy have an orgasm. The actor's neediness got more and more extreme. Eventually, all the sexual energy was transfered in his mind from wanting his own ejaculation, to giving as many of those as possible to the two men. The show, with that weird rewrite, continued for another three years, during which Willy became an object of ridicule and derision. Entertainment writers speculated on how he achieved his female appearance. The studio circulated rumors that he had voluntarily had himself made that way with hormones and other methods. When the program was finally dropped from the schedule, to immediately go into heavy reruns, he thought he might at last be able to go back to being his old self. The executive he was living with came to him one night, all smiles, saying he had good news. "Here's the deal, Laurie." Willy couldn't remember the last time he was addressed by his male name. "I've gotten you a new show. It's this Saturday morning thing they've thrown together as an excuse to run some cartoons the station has the rights to. You're going to be a sort of host. Or hostess. Your character will be Miss Porcine. Get it? She's a pig. You'll have more dresses like you've been wearing, the ones that a certain type of guys keep e-mailing the station about how much they like them. And I'll have Circe make some new changes in your appearance, which will save us money on make-up." Arnold had long harbored a weird fantasy of having his own personal piggy girl, who had originally been a guy, as a living sex toy. He told Circe what he wanted. She was happy to comply. Her next session with Willy gave the victim a bigger bust and even more expansive bottom. There was even a curly pig tail at the base of his spine. But the more important changes were above the neck. They included pointed ears, eyes sunk deep into fat deposits, cartoonishly long and thick lashes, piggish snout, huge puckered lips, and blubbery double chin. His hair was lengthened, made wavy, and changed to platinum blond. Willy's voice remained wispy but now he couldn't help occasionally snorting. The transfiguration was so extreme that no one realized who was behind those porker features. At home Arnold was at last ready to fulfill his dream of deflowering a he/she porker. He got Willy into an outfit from the show, a novelty one that had been used in just a single episode. It was a sort of sheath, covered in ruffles, and pink of course. Only the wearer's head, hands and feet protruded. Willy was told to get his face down on the pillow and raise his ass. That was when he found that there was another opening, between his bottom cheeks, that didn't show on camera. His owner -- as he now thought of Arnold -- parted its halves. He greased his rampant member with pork fat, choosing that lube to keep the mood consistent. Then he set the end of his engorged tool against the bizarre figure's puckered rosebud. "Make a noise like a pig," Arnold commanded as he plunged in. Willy didn't have to be prompted to squeal loudly. The sound further inflamed Arnold's passion. The kneeling man gleefully took full possession of his porcine princess, as he liked to call Willy. There was pain but also arousal. The sow's diminished penis twitched and got hard. His balls ached with the need to be emptied, after so much enforced celibacy. He made more barnyard sounds as the executive ravished him. The actor was taken to the verge of finishing over and over, but never quite got there. When it was done, Willy no longer fully knew who he was or what he wanted. To add to his hopeless situation, Lukas was also permitted access to the area below that corkscrew tail. The driver delighted in fingering Willy there to elevate him into a state of near frenzy. Then he would pork- shish-kabob him, as he enjoyed saying, keeping him on the brink of gaining satisfaction but never taking him over the edge. Willy was stuck in a state of perpetual yearning and frustration. Lukas liked to make him beg for the rest, though it was never delivered. The she-pig spent all her time at home in various outfits from the new program. They were unrelentingly girly and overstated. Also, each one had been designed with buttons and removable panels, which allowed them to be made much more revealing that would be permitted on TV. Arnold and Lukas delighted in making him spend entire weekends, doing menial household chores, while thus dressed. His oversized boobs would wobble the whole time. Whenever he walked his doublewide ass jiggled nonstop.. At last the two men took Willy over the edge sexually. They demonstrated how a vigorous butt-reaming, with the added trick of angling their penetrating organs to brush his prostate, could make him spurt. Willy/Laurie/Miss Porcine was relieved but also found that, before long, he became addicted to being used that way. Now when he sucked their cocks, it was always with the hope that it would lead to an anal invasion. Arnold had a small circle of select friends who shared his uncommon lust for a swinish shemale. They would come to visit occasionally and were welcome to share Miss Porcine, front and back, so long as Arnold could watch and make suggestions. A few of the visitors brought their own costumes for the helpless sex slave to wear. At last the Saturday morning show finished its run. After that Willy was home almost all the time. Once a year there was a Halloween special that featured clips from lots of episodes of I MARRIED A SORCERESS, especially the post-makeover ones. Arnold would make Willy watch it while eating slops from a floor-level trough. Circe's victim snuffled and grunted. The executive knelt behind his precious piggy and humped her mercilessly during those seasonal programs. And he never forgot, at the end, to wish his 'juicy ham steak' a HAPPY HALLOWEEN. ********* (This one sort of wrote itself, once I had the basic idea in mind and had done the establishing scenes. What do you think?)